“Oh, I don’t mind. Just so they aren’t a glaring red,” hastily amended Daisy. “I suppose the subs will want to have new suits, too. We ought to call a meeting of the team some time this week. That reminds me, we don’t know yet who is to be captain. You ought to be, Marjorie. I think Ellen will ask you.”
“No.” Marjorie shook a decided head. “To be given center is honor enough for me. Girls, I’d love to have Muriel for captain. She’d be simply splendid.”
“Oh, no, not me,” protested Muriel in ungrammatical confusion. Nevertheless, she flushed with pleasure at Marjorie’s generous proposal.
“That would be fine,” asserted Susan Atwell heartily. She was not in the least jealous because Marjorie had not proposed her for the honor. She had long since learned that Marjorie Dean was incapable of showing favoritism. She had selected Muriel strictly with the good of the team in mind.
“Let’s ask Ellen if we can’t have Muriel,” said Daisy Griggs earnestly.
“You see three of us are of the same mind,” Marjorie pointed out with a smile. “I know Rita will say so, too. But where are she and Harriet?”
“Still in the gym, I guess, with Ellen. Harriet lives next door to Ellen,” reminded Susan. “They’ll be along presently.”
“I can’t wait for them,” Marjorie demurred. “It’s almost six. Captain will wonder why I’m so late. Come on, Jerry and Irma,” she called. Jerry and Irma had wandered a little away from the group and were deeply engaged in earnest discussion. “How many of you are going our way?”
“I’m going to my aunt’s for dinner,” said Muriel. “So I’ll say good-bye. Daisy goes my way, too. See you to-morrow. Come along, Daisy.”
Left to themselves, Susan, Marjorie, Irma and Jerry swung off toward home, four abreast.